


A Day at the Aquarium

by suhdude



Series: Papa Date [1]
Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Aquariums, Comfort, Diner Date, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Other, aquarium, friends - Freeform, friends to lovers?, i want the old man to be happy, im very gay and this turned self indulgent VERY quickly, it was supposed to be a gift i am sorry, you help that old man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-23 19:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhdude/pseuds/suhdude
Summary: You enjoy some time at the aquarium with a casual Papa II.





	1. Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Fist chapter is pretty pg/pg 13 other than some mild language.

You always seemed to be drawn back to the aquarium, or rather, he always seemed to drag you back there. 

He seemed almost exactly the same as he was the last time you saw him. His suit was pressed and shoes shone. He sat on the bench just in the entrance. As you grew closer the familiar scent of his aftershave filled your nose. A forest, spruce and cedar, aging yet lush, evergreen. It was a welcome change to the musty smell of the aquarium. 

“You’re late, again” came his voice.

“You’re early, again” you say, standing in front of him. 

“Shall we?” He asked as he rose from his seat.

“We shall” you quipped, grinning. Though he still had his sunglasses on, you could tell his eyes were rolling. 

The two of you strolled into the main foyer. Bright lights greeted you before the attendee at the desk could. It seemed like every light that wasn’t water proof was in one room. Even then, there were more illuminating the fish tank that stretched across the back wall. Who thought it was a good idea to have such an obscenely light room to prepare you to look at fish? 

“Welcome! Have a swimming time!” the perky clerk with the dead eyes said.

“Thank you” you replied, turning your attention to your company “you paid for mine again, didn’t you?”

“You were late” he said, eyes keeping forward. 

He always had an air of mystery about him. In fact, the first time you asked his name, he said it was “Mr. E”. You of course laughed before realizing he was dead serious. Emeritus, you would later find, was his last name. You held off from laughing when he mentioned that most called him Papa, hoping that an explanation would follow. Thankfully, he revealed he was part of a clergy. That had been awhile now. 

The two of you followed the curves of the corridor, the light slowly faded from harsh to cool. Tanks produced a soft glow. Glass from ceiling to knee level meant you could see a range of fish at once. The first section was of freshwater fish from lakes. Mighty sturgeon glided through the water. It was hard not to smile when looking at such wonderful creatures so you never held back here. 

“No matter how many times you see them, you always smile, why is that?” Papa asked.

After a moment, you tuned to Papa. “They’re handsome”

“So are many people, that does not mean I enjoy looking at them time and time again”

“They move so gracefully, powerful yet calm. Plus, they smile back”

“Smiling is a sign of weakness”

“You need to stop being a bitter bitch and be a better bitch”

“I am both bitter and better” he said, leaning down to examine a rather stern perch. It was hard not to notice the smirk he fought back. You laughed. 

“How have things been?” you managed after calming down a bit.

“Fine, busy, Satanic” he replied. You laughed again. 

“For a religious guy you sure seem to like Satan.” 

“He is a pillar.” He responded, leaning closer to the fish.

“Fair enough.” You moved a bit closer to him. “That fish looks like you”

“Wha-“ the fish charging the glass cut him off and caused him to flinch. He straightened his back and nodded to you then turned on his heel to the next set of tanks. It was rare to see him lose even a bit of his composure. 

You followed him to the next batch of tanks. Usually he took more time at each.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yes” he said, still not looking at you for more than a second. “Just pre-occupied.”

“Alright, if you need me to grab you a snack or something let me know” your tone leaning to concern. 

The facility was nearly empty. The hum of the lights and bubbling of the filters hardly filled the silence. Something about him felt almost alien. You had been in this building more times than you could count but now, you felt out of place.

Walking slowly, you gave him some space. Usually by this point in the walk his sunglasses would be off, but, they still shielded his eyes. You tried not to look at him too much, tried not to crowd him with your glances, tried to stay quiet and just look at the fish. It was the most uncomfortable you had ever been with him.

The next room was fairly dark. A tank stood in the wall, emitting a slowly changing colorful light. Jellyfish drifted like bubbles in a lava lamp. Papa joined you in front of it.

You turned your head to him slightly. He kept his face forward. You looked back to the jellyfish. A blue hue washed over the two you.

“My time is about up.” He spoke, his voice feeling flat, “They will replace me soon, my younger brother will take my position in the clergy.”

“I’m sorry” you said, turning to face him again.

“It was bound to happen eventually.” His hand raised to remove his sunglasses. His movements were stiff, mechanical. The blue slowly faded into green.

“That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.”

“No, it doesn’t, but nothing can change the inevitable. It should still be me, I have so much more to do,” he said, you stood, debating reaching out to comfort him.

His glasses in pocket, his hand went back to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighed. The green oozing into a yellow shade. 

“I’m…not confident…in what will come next,” he trailed, “if anything else will come.”

You fought every urge to make a joke.

“I’ve worked so long to get where I am,” he spoke again “not all that got me where I am was of my own will, but I accepted it, now the threat of it all being taken, it is daunting”  
His eyes started to drift from straight forward, down. 

“Is there nothing you can do?” you whispered.

“Nothing”

“You’ll still be you” you said, hand slowly finding a place on his arm, light shifting orange.

“Without the clergy, I’m not sure where I fall” Papa said, his eyes on his shoes “I will need to find myself again, I know so many of my stances but, identity can be difficult with change. Good, evil, kind, cruel, they aren’t black and white.”

“You aren’t bad, I mean, morally ambiguous, but you seem to try to do your best”

“Is that how you see me?”

“Yes, you’re dedicated to what you do. Never once have you given me even a hint you half ass things. I’m sure once you get out of this and maybe get back in the swing of life, you’ll get laid and be a little nicer, but, you’re decent” you said.

“I forget how little you know of my work” red light washing him as he spoke. He finally met your eyes. 

The two of you just looked at each other, waiting for a sign from the other, something about him felt different, not cold like before, this time, warm.

Slowly, your hand moved from his arm further up, resting on his shoulder. 

“You’ve always been good to me, even when we first met, I’ve never known much about what you do, but there is something good inside you.” Your thumb gently rubbed his shoulder as you spoke. The red shine on his eye was replaced with a pink one.

“Thank you…” he managed before turning back to the tank. You let your hand fall from him. The pink glow made the jellyfish look almost like bubblegum bubbles. You smiled, and you thought he might have too.


	2. Walking

The lights of the jellyfish tank sank to purple, without another word, the two of you moved on.

Glancing quickly at him, you noticed his brow wasn’t as furrowed as it usually was. Moving to a nearby tank filled with snails, you let a smile creep back onto your face. Green plants danced in the soft current. One snail slowly drifted through the open water before finding another place to stick. You worried about Papa, but like the snail, you were sure he would find some stability again soon. He seemed like someone who didn’t stop until they got what they wanted.

“Look at those two” Papa said, surprising you a bit, your backpack slid down your arm, you hadn’t even noticed how close he had gotten. His gloved finger outstretched to guide your eyes to the pair. 

“Aw, piggy back ride…wait…oh…oh no…” you blushed.

“For someone who is so concerned with my getting laid? That was how you said it, correct? You sure have a strange reaction to simple snails mating.”

“Well, that is different…I don’t want to witness one of them…”

“Oh?” Papa said, an eyebrow raising significantly. His head cocked to the side a bit. He was so close.

“NOT what I meant! Come on,” you laughed, backing away. Before you turned you swore you could see a dash of disappointment on his face. You thought for a moment if what you said was true, but, shook the idea from your head and kept walking.

The two of you fell into light conversation as you cruised, pausing only to point out the tiny creatures in the small, more isolated tanks. Papa always seemed interested in what you had been doing in your time. How you were getting along. Each story you told seemed extraordinary to him. Never an interruption. 

He wasn’t the most open of people. He tended to shy away from conversation about himself. When he did talk about himself, it was vague, as if he had something to hide from you. Once or twice you pushed for more but the idea of losing him kept you from prying too much. From as many times as you hung out, you did find that he didn’t have a conventional familial relationship, that there was something different about his church, and that he seemed to have a history of partying. You weren’t sure when exactly he joined the clergy but for some reason he told party stories as if they had just happened. His emotional openness today was strange to say the least. It was nice that he was starting to trust you more. 

There was one time before where Papa had excused himself to talk to someone. You couldn’t remember exactly where you were but you did remember a full sneer claw across his face and the death glare he shot before he got up to talk. Not wanting to intrude you looked the other way and tried not to listen. You succeeded until you heard a cracking noise and cursing in Italian. There was a phone smashed on the ground and Papa returned while placing something in his pocket. Before you could ask anything, he had told you not to worry but that it was time to go. You hadn’t seen him like that since. Most the time, he seemed to be neutral. 

“Your mind somewhere else?” Papa said, slight concern in his voice.

“Oh, yeah, I’m back now, all good” you replied. “Thanks.”

“Do you need to walk a little slower?”

“No. I’m good” you paused. “Might need to stop at the café after though.”

Papa nodded his head.

The tunnel was next. It was nice to have the self-moving walkway. Glass was the only thing keeping you and the sharks apart. There were all kinds of coral and anemones. The   
tunnel had a few curves but that added to some of the fun. You greeted the familiar fish with a smile, hoping they remembered you. Tropical fish darted around. It was magical, being practically in an ocean. It was brighter here than in the past few rooms. A mix of natural and artificial light filled the space. The sun was part way through setting.

You looked to Papa for a moment. This early in the evening, he would have usually put his sunglasses back on here, but, he hadn’t this time. You watched as his eyes followed one fish and then another. The light shone differently on each eye. Both gorgeous, the light eye’s pupil so starkly contrasting the rest of the eye, the darker eye gleaming in the most magnificent ways, colours shining through in new ways with every shift. 

You looked around you again, taking it all in. 

“Thank you,” Papa said softly “for this.”

You nodded to him as a reply. You thought you felt something brush against your hand. You must have been mistaken. 

After exiting the tunnel, the two of you went to the small café bar in the building. You each got an Italian soda. Papa always went for a sour apple flavor. It somehow suited him.   
He again refused to let you pay for yourself. You placed the money you would have used in the tip jar while staring him down. He dumped the change that the cashier handed to him in the jar as well. The two of you sat across from each other at a nearby table. The conversation took a short break as you drank your drinks.

“What a nice thing to see” a strained voice startled you. 

You both turned to see an elderly lady with a walker approaching you. 

“A young person spending time with their father, lovely, say, young man, you look familiar, do I know you?” she said, you held your tongue.

Papa’s face softened “Perhaps from church?”

“Oh yes! Forgive me, apologies, there really isn’t a resemblance, rather, you do suit each other, I haven’t seen you lately, touring again?” the lady spoke, Papas face tightened a bit.

Papa slowly rose from his seat. “Yes, shall we walk and tal-“ Papa started, but the woman cut him off.

“Oh no no, I hate to intrude or interrupt, hope the two of you have fun, you are very lucky to get to spend the one on one time with Papa.” She said, winking to you before turning back to your companion, “Hope to see you soon Papa. Goodbye. Beast be with you.”

Papa stood for a moment to wave as the woman left. 

“You must be pretty important huh?” You said before he could explain. 

“I’m rather pope-ular” Papa replied, closing his eyes for an extra moment and sitting back down. 

“So touring is an, ongoing thing?” you inquired.

“For now. One more and my brother will most likely takeover” he said, looking at the table.

“So…you preach or... play gospel music?” you asked cautiously. For the first time since you had met the man, he smiled a full toothy grin. 

“In a way” was all he said before he took another sip and regained his composure. “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing. Want to check the gift shop?” 

 

The two of you hardly went in the gift shop. You enjoyed it but he never seemed to show an interest. Overpriced merchandise for tourists mainly. Collector spoons, plates, stuffed animals and toys for children. Most of what they had had the aquariums name on it but some were thing you were sure you could get just about anywhere else for half the price. Something caught your eye and you knew you had to have it. 

When you were sure he wasn’t paying attention, you brought it to cash, paid, and had them double bag it and you stuck it in your bag. You thanked the cashier and went to find Papa. 

He stood with a snow globe in his hand, examining it. He held it out for a moment as if he was about to recite Shakespeare before he put it back on the shelf. His head turned to you. 

“Found something?” 

“Not this time” you lied.

“I will have to buy you dinner instead, what are you in the mood for?” 

“You don’t have to-“

“I insist.” Papa said, cutting you off. “What would you like?”


	3. Eating

“I like Italian” you say.

“Let me make a call”

“You don’t have to spoil me”

“I have yet to spoil you” he says before pulling out his phone and walking away for a moment. You stand looking around. You wondered if he was alright with taking public transit. You had never seen if he had a car but you figured it could come across rude to ask. The more you thought, the more you realized how little you knew about how he got around. You only ever met up places and he arrived before you and left after he was sure you were safe heading out. 

“The car will be here soon.” Papa said once he rejoined you. 

“Like a cab?” you asked.

“No. Would you rather wait in here or outside?”

“Outside, we may be able to catch some of the sunset.”

“Very well.” He said. He put his elbow out for you to take. You paused to examine it before you cautiously locked arms with him. 

 

The air was nice. Warm enough not to need a coat, a slight breeze moved the leaves on nearby trees. You wondered how long you would stay out, how cold it would get. 

A car pulled up. It looked like a mob limo from the late 60’s, a Lincoln if you weren’t mistaken. You held your breath. You wondered why someone in the mob would come to an aquarium. With the car still running, a chauffer stepped out, circled the car, and slowly opened the door. It was empty. You sighed. 

“Do you not like the car?” Papa’s asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh, it’s cool, I’ve never seen one up close in real life before, just in movies. Wait, this is your car, isn’t it?”

“Yes, shall we? Or would you prefer something else?” 

“This is fine. Good, great, sorry it’s just, not what I was expecting, not really sure what I had expected” you stopped yourself from saying anything more and carefully got into the car, thanking the chauffer for opening the door.

It was well kept. Leather seats didn’t show their age. The ceiling was somewhat reflective. There was even a sliding door to close off the drivers view of the back. Everything was spotless. It seemed like the harder you looked at everything the cleaner it was. You carefully placed your backpack in front of you. You reached for a seatbelt but couldn’t find one. 

Papa watched as you checked out the interior. His eyes following your hands as your fingers extended to touch, stopping short.

“I don’t mind if you touch anything. Go ahead, explore.” He spoke. 

You looked at him to be sure he was serious. When he nodded again, you turned to your door and checked the compartments on the door. Empty ashtrays. It seemed like each part of the car had a secret. 

Once you were content with the inspection, you sat back. 

“This is really cool” you said to Papa. 

“Thank you, it’s nice to see someone point out what you’ve forgotten.” Papa said, he seemed tense.

“You feeling alright?”

“Yes, perfectly fine. Perhaps just hungry.”

“Oh, I don’t think in all the time we’ve known each other, we have had a sit-down meal, right?” 

“Never a proper meal no. I’m glad you chose Italian. For me it’s a taste of home”

Conversation continued for awhile before you arrived. The lights were on in the small restaurant and the tables were filled. The chauffer again circled the car and opened the door. After Papa had gotten out, he helped you out. You decided to bring your bag with you. Again, he offered his arm and again you took it. 

When you got into the restaurant, who you assumed was the host immediately greeted the two of you. You were lead to a small booth in the back, a candle burned, iced lemon water had already been set out. Before the host left, he shook and kissed Papas hand. Papa bowed to him. 

“So, you are really really popular” you said, adjusting yourself slightly in the booth. 

“Something along the lines.” Papa said. A waitress arrived quickly and placed bowls of warm water in front of you. Papa nodded and she disappeared. You watched intently as Papa removed one glove and then the other. He placed them next to the bowl then dipped his hands in. You followed his lead. He pulled his handkerchief out and handed it to you. After you dried your hands you handed the soft cloth back. He quickly dried his hands and put it away. He examined your face for a moment.

“Are you not comfortable?” you heard, his voice tinged with concern.

“I’m a little nervous. Not used to the V.I.P. treatment.”

“You aren’t obligated to act any way you don’t want to. You are free to act as you like. If you’d prefer somewhere else we can leave. If you would like to leave on your own I will get you a cab if you so wish. Your comfort is the top priority here. You don’t owe anyone here anything, especially me.” He kept his voice steady, calm, comforting. “Even if you are fine now and change your mind, it is alright, you have every right to change your mind.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You breathed. You looked in his eyes. Something about him was soothing and something held a different kind of heat. 

The waitress came back, dropped off a basket of fresh bread and a small bowl of olive oil. She swiftly pulled two menus she had tucked under her arm and gracefully placed them down in front of you. She disappeared again. Papa took one of the cloth napkins from the table and placed it on his lap, you followed suit. 

Even without looking at the menu, you could tell they would have something you liked. The whole restaurant smelled of fresh homemade goods. There was no doubt in your mind everything was homemade. As soon as you opened the menu, you realized how glad you were that Papa had chosen this restaurant. Under house specialties stood lasagna. 

As you waited for Papa to decide, you took a piece of the bread, added some oil, and ate. 

The bread was wonderful. The crust was crisp and flaky and the inside tore and melted as you bit into it. It was enough to chew but not chewy. The bit of olive oil gave it an extra boost in flavor that it hardly needed but, all in all, pushed it above and beyond. It was hard to eat fast as it was almost overwhelmingly good and you wanted to save room. 

Before you realized, the waitress was back, placing a small bowl of soup in front of each of you. Then, she disappeared and came back not a moment later with a bottle of wine. She poured and took your entrée orders. 

“Do they always bring soup like this?” You asked Papa as you picked up your soup spoon. 

“I’ve become a bit of a regular here. I apologize, if it isn’t to your liking I can have them take it back or replace it.”

“I’ll try it first” you decided. Careful not to spill any, you drew the soup into the spoon then to your mouth. Thankfully, it was the perfect temperature. The bits of rice and beans were cooked perfectly, not stiff nor mushy. The legumes still held their flavor as you bit down, and the broth was an experience all on its own. Savory and sweet complimented each other instead of battling. Even after the soup had been swallowed, the comforting taste lingered. A hum escaped you.

“You enjoy it too I see” Papa commented as he set down his spoon. 

“Incredibly so.” You took another spoonful “I’ve had plenty of soups but, not like this.”

“I’m glad to experience this with you.” A flicker of a grin appeared at the side of his mouth, if for a moment.

The two of you enjoyed the soup, and as you did, you heard music seep from a nearby party room.

“It will be awhile before the entrees are ready. Would you care to dance?” Papa asked, leaning close to your ear.

“I’m not exactly trained”

“I’ll teach you,” Papa stood and stretched his hand to you.

You pushed your bag under the table, slid to the edge of the booth, and took his hand. The two of you went into the room to find not only others dancing, but people sitting and watching from a bar. At the edge of the floor, he guided your hand to his shoulder and placed his on your shoulder blade. He lifted your free hand in his. 

“It’s a four count. We can start slow. Mirror me.” He said. Not even in the car had you been this close. 

He took a step forward, instinctively, your foot went back. 

“Good,” he whispered.

A foot to the side, you followed. Each step you slowly followed. 

“You’re doing well. Let’s dance”

“This wasn-“ you were cut off by Papas step further onto the dance floor. You started to stumble as you looked down trying to keep up. 

“Look in my eyes.” His voice was strong but kind. “Trust yourself”

“You should know me well enough to know that isn’t my strong suit” you half laughed back.

“I know you well enough to trust in you, you should too.” His eyes softened, it was as if no one else were in the room with you “Breath” 

You did. And you trusted in him enough to trust in yourself. Slowly at first, then faster you followed his movements and the music. Soon, you seemed to follow your own timing. Even if his mouth hadn’t moved, his eyes held a smile. 

It wasn’t long after you got in the groove that the song had ended. You beamed at Papa. 

“Have you worked up an appetite yet?” 

“Yes,” you said, stomach practically growling at the thought of the lasagna. 

“Then let’s eat.” 

Papa guided you back to the booth. It was a short distance but you appreciated the gesture. No sooner than you sat down, the waitress placed your food in front of you.  
The sight of the plate alone was enough to make your mouth water. A plain white plate with the most perfect slice of lasagna you had ever seen. The top crisp without any charring, not a single part looked dried out, the sauce thick enough to stay in place without for a moment looking gelatinous. No grease dripped down, only strands of cheese. Even the sound when you cut into it was heavenly, effortless. When you placed the first bite in your mouth, you tasted how savory the tomato sauce was, unlike many lasagnas you had had, it wasn’t overly sweet. Then the pieces of meat introduced themselves to your taste buds. The noodles themselves held a soft flavor, and the cheese tied it all together. No one flavor fought for dominance, instead, they seemed to work like a symphony. 

As you drifted back to reality, you looked to your companion. He held a fork loosely in his hand but hadn’t taken a bite yet, instead, your eyes met. 

He blushed. “Pardon me.” His eyes shot down to his plate. You could feel your cheeks grow red as well. Slowly you both ate. 

“Would you like to try some of mine?” he asked quietly.

“Please” you replied. 

He went to work gathering a bit of everything on his fork. One hand under the fork, he lifted it to your mouth. The sauce was light, a hint of spinach, and a light tang. As you bit down, a bit of clam gushed, more of the sauce filling your mouth. It didn’t have a fishy taste like clams you had tried before, nor the chewiness. The bit of sweet pepper added an extra dimension. Less like a full orchestra and more like the tangle and harmony of a jazz band. 

You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed until they had opened again. 

“Sorry for hogging your fork” you apologized after Papa gently slid it back past your lips. 

“Nothing to be sorry for” he said.

You cut him a slice of your dwindling lasagna supply which he thankfully declined. 

“I’ve had everything on this menu” he reasoned “you should enjoy it.” 

You nodded and both went back to eating. 

The waitress returned when your plates were empty. You had wiped yours with a piece of bread just to get the last bits. Papa had followed suit with his own. 

You were surprised how light yet filling the meal was. It seemed to be a perfect balance of everything. 

You felt warm. A good meal and good company had that effect. There was still something, you weren’t sure what yet, that you wanted. 

You turned to speak to Papa but were interrupted by the waitress setting a cannoli, cut in half, on the table. 

“Thank you, Cecilia,” he said before she turned to leave. She bowed for a moment before disappearing again. 

Papa extended a bare finger to pull the plate closer to the two of you. Gently curling it, the plate arrived. 

The cannoli wasn’t the only thing you were craving.

You tried to shift subtly, to adjust, but, you wound up closer to him. 

Papa plucked half from the plate, licked some of the excess, and took a bite. His teeth. You knew they weren’t straight, but now that you were so close, you could see his canines were practically fangs. 

Mid bite, he paused to turn to you. 

“S-sorry!” you managed “I didn’t mean to stare”

He chewed and slowly swallowed. 

“Why don’t you eat your half? Or would it be better if I fed it to you?”

Something had shifted between the two of you. Usually comments like this came off as a joke, now, they seemed more like a tease to something more, a genuine flirtation.

You faked a laugh to try and keep your appearance up.

You took the cannoli. You each ate. 

“Have any energy left to dance?” his voice rang.

“Maybe a song or two,” you said.

Again, he got up and held his hand out to you. You went back to the room. The band had slowed down quite a bit since your last trip over. You automatically put your hands where he had placed them before. Instead of doing the same, he took an extra step in, put one hand around your waist, and held your free hand with the other. The hand that he held, he moved to his chest. This time, it was much less of a full dance than a sway. 

“Is something wrong?” concern again tinging his voice.

“No… I don’t know…maybe…yes...” you trailed, looking at his chest. Your hand felt so right against his.

“Is this too much?” He said, backing away a bit.

“No, no, if anything, I feel a bit guilty. You’ve done all this, spent all this time and effort on me, and I only want more time, and…you” your eyes caught his. 

Surprise wasn’t the right word for the look he had, but it was the closest you could come up with. He seemed to deliberate before opening his mouth.


	4. Dancing

“What is it that you want from me?” He asked, un-moving, his chest puffed out as he held his breath.

“Nothing, well, something…” You looked everywhere but his eyes “Not a physical thing, but, a physical thing…”

His chest slowly fell as you avoided looking him in the eye. With your hand against his chest, you thought you could feel his heart skip a beat. “Will a dance suffice until you find the words?” he whispered, closing the space he had put between you.

“Yes” you whispered back.

Papa’s feet began to move, you followed. The two of you swayed in the crowd on the dance floor. The music was soothing. It melted the nervous tension you held in your shoulders. One song passed, then another, and another, each slower than the last. The two of you just holding each other and dancing. The lights all lowered except the small chandeliers. The crystals bounced a soft light. Your head rested against him, his shoulders tensed, you heard him sharply breath in. After a moment, he slowly exhaled. With your head against him, you felt his shoulders relax again, he seemed more at ease, but, his heart raced. Every now and again you shifted how your head rested. Tested the waters. Tested yourself. His aftershave somehow smelt softer when you were so close. 

Finally, you worked up the nerve to look him in the face. 

Your head lifted, then your eyes rose to his. 

“Papa,” you started “Papa I…” Something in the way he looked at you made you forget what you wanted to say. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, very, yes, just need to sit” was all you could manage. It felt like you were in a trance. 

Papa escorted you to one of the vacant chairs nearby.

Cecelia approached, she looked slightly scared. 

“Papa” she spoke “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but Daniel has insisted he cover your bill. He insists strongly. I’m aware how you’ve…received…such gestures in the past. Do you have a preference for how this I handled?”

“Let him. I’m occupied. And make sure the backpack under our table is put in my car.” Papa said.

“Yes Papa” she bowed and left. 

Papa turned to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Just, overwhelmed”

“Should I be getting you home?”

“No, no, one more dance, please.” You replied.

A quizzical look spread across the mans face. None the less, he again lead you to dance. His skin was warm. Soft, except a few calluses on his fingertips. Once you started dancing, you didn’t break eye contact. You noticed how he took care not to spin as much as the others on the floor. His eyelids looked heavy, as if he had you fight to keep them open even a bit. 

“Papa” you started again “I have…you’re so…” you started to lean closer to his face, “so…”

His eye brow raised slightly. You found him leaning in too. His face, so close. Your eyes drifted shut. His lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, cautious. Your hand gripped his shoulder a bit tighter, he pulled your waist closer. Everything spun except your bodies. Every inch of him, so close to you. 

Slowly, you pulled back, he followed for a moment, then stopped. 

“Papa, I…”

“No, I shouldn’t have presumed th-“ your lips against his cut him off. This time, it felt more heated, lips smashing instead of searching for each other. 

You pulled back quickly.

“Papa, I have feelings for you, confusing feelings, and, I don’t want you to regret anything that may happen. I don’t want to regret anything. I need you to know that the feelings are there.”

“I wasn’t sure.” He said, pausing “I have grown used to people developing such feelings. I have grown used to hearing them. But, I am not used to returning them, feeling them.”   
The hand that held yours drifted to your face, “I return them.”

“Should we get out of here?” you ask, his eyes opening a bit at the suggestion. 

His hand left your face, she turned to stand at your side. His hand still resting on your waist, guided you out of the dancing room. The two of you walked through the restaurant,   
Papa quickly nodded to a man standing by the kitchen, and the two of you left. 

The car seemed so much smaller now. Your bag sat on one of the rear facing seats. You sat side by side, hardly any space between you. You set your hand in the gap. His met yours. Your pinkies hooked together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, if you want to see how the night ends, look in the series. You get to pick your adventure (fair warning, they are NOT pg adventures so proceed with caution)


End file.
